


I Thought I Should Tell You

by SPNFangallovesSquirrel



Series: Dean [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:11:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPNFangallovesSquirrel/pseuds/SPNFangallovesSquirrel
Summary: The reader is a friend of the Winchester brother’s, but Dean is a best friend. Dean helps the reader through depression.





	I Thought I Should Tell You

**Author's Note:**

> (Y/N): Your Name (Y/L/N): Your last name  
> A/N: For the request, I’ve written this to the best of my abilities, as gender neutral as possible so if this relates to anyone, male or female you can put yourself in the story or in the character’s shoes.

****“Damn, that was a helluva fight.” You groan, sitting down at the library table. You prop your feet on the table and close your eyes, the ghoul had done a number on you and the Winchester brothers, although you felt like you took the brunt of the beating.  
  
“Ugh. Come on, feet off the table. We do eat here.” Sam mutters.  
  
You groan, and slowly take your combat – clad feet off the table.  
  
“Thank you. I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to go get a drink. How about you?” Sam asks.  
  
“I’m down. How about you (Y/N)?” Dean places his colt on the table top and looks to you.  
  
“I think a hot shower is in store first. I’ll meet you over there?” you ask. The brother’s nod and quickly depart, leaving you to your thoughts.  
  
The only thing you can do hop in a shower, you let the hot water soothe your aching muscles, and your mind seems to wander. Drifting from one thing to another, one person to another.

“Hey.” You hear Dean’s gravelly voice mutter through the door. “You okay?”  
  
You clear your throat, and dry yourself off, slipping into clean clothes. Your heart pounds as you hear his voice, and you swallow back, feeling a dry spot in your mouth. “Yeah. I just had to have a hot shower. My body is killing me.”  
  
You run your hands through your wet hair and sigh.  
  
“I bet. You took a beating.” Dean says sitting in the chair in your small room. “But, I’m not talking about that.”  
  
“I’m fine. I promise.” You reply. Dean sits at the edge of the chair and looks to you, so you have to assure him. “I’m serious.”  
  
Dean gives a sigh and nods. He doesn’t want to press the issue for now. “Okay. You know I’m here if you need to talk, right?”  
  
“Yeah. I know. Thanks.” You reply quietly.  
  
“Good, so you gonna join us for a beer?” he asks.  
  
“You know what. I think I’m going to hit the sack now. I’m too tired.” You look up to him and smile. “Thanks though.”  
  
Dean gives you a weak smile, almost a sorry one. He doesn’t know what to do. So he backs off, waving to you as he leaves. You watch as he leaves, and a fog seems to settle over you.  
  
Thoughts of inadequacy fill your mind, am I good enough? Do I matter to him? Do I even matter at all?  
  
You tuck yourself into bed, and try and forget about anything for at least four hours. Maybe more.  
  
Two weeks pass, with a few hunts in between, yet the mood doesn’t lighten very well.  
  
By now, the brothers can tell something is wrong, but more importantly you aren’t at your best for hunts.  
  
“I’m going to go out on a limb here, (Y/N). Something is going on with you, and you can’t hunt until you start figuring it out.”  
  
“Come on Dean, you can’t bench me. This is my job. I have to do something.” You reply. You kind of feel offended he thinks something is wrong with you.  
  
“I know it is, and the sooner we get down to the problem, the quicker you can get back in the game.” You sigh, and put your head in your hands. “Do you need to talk? Come on, you can talk to me. I know something has been up.”  
  
You bite down on your bottom lip, and look to him. His green eyes are a little darker tonight, the way they got when he was worried about you, Cas or Sam. “It’s just getting to me. I’m having a hard time coping.”  
  
“Nothing is wrong with feeling depressed or having the weight of the world on your shoulders. We go through a lot, we see a lot.”  
  
“Some times too much.” You respond. You take a beer from the fridge, and sit down at the kitchen table.  
  
“And you can’t be in that kind of mind frame. We want you above ground, not six feet under. You know as well as I that this kind of behavior and thought process can hurt us in a hunt. I can’t see my best friend getting hurt.”  
  
You nod and look up to him. “Okay. I’ll do research. Call me if you need me?”  
  
Dean nods and takes off, calling after Sam. You can hear doors slam, and the familiar roar of the impala take off and you’re alone, yet again to muddle in the fog.  
  
In your mind it was easy to talk to Dean. To tell him your feelings. You can tell him you love him; that you just wanted to be with him. That when you were with him, everything was better. It wasn’t as hard.  
  
In your mind, you could walk up to him, tell him the honest truth, and tell him that it was about him. The reason you were depressed, and feeling down, was because of him.  
  
Not that he had done anything to you, but because of how  _you_  felt. You were friends, and grateful for that friendship. He was your best friend, and you could talk about anything with him. Just not this one thing.  
  
You couldn’t tell him you were in love with him, because you knew how he’d react. One, he’d probably not like it, just because he’ isn’t in to the romantic sappy crap, and two; he would say that there is no time for love. That it isn’t in a hunter’s best interest to have a relationship. Relationships can cause problems, problems bring on baggage, and baggage. Well, it weighs you down.  
  
You honestly didn’t know what to do.  
  
The thing about your depression, no one was telling you, you were inferior. No one was telling you, you were no good. No one was doing anything to you. It was your mind, and it was playing dirty tricks on you.  
  
It constantly had to tell you, that either one; you weren’t good enough of a hunter, that you never should’ve stepped foot into the hunting game, or two; you didn’t deserve it.  
  
You really didn’t want to chance what Dean might say if you were to tell him, because you knew that inner voice. You knew it’d start putting you down the instant your conversation was over.

* * *

Twenty minutes hadn’t passed. You could hear the roar of the impala pull back in to the bunker’s garage. The door slammed a few seconds later and you could hear heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen. You had barely finished off your beer, and hadn’t moved since he had left.  
  
“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, looking to him. He leaned against the door jamb and looked to you, rubbing his scruffy face with his hand.  
  
“Sam got Garth to help on the hunt. I’m worried about you.” He says. He approaches you slowly and sits across from you.  
  
“I’m okay.” You lied. “Really. You could’ve gone with Sam.”  
  
“Why won’t you talk to me (Y/N)?” he asks.  
  
“That’s the thing about depression Dean, sometimes it’s hard to talk to anyone. It’s hard to find someone that understands.”  
  
“Depressed? Okay, I guess I could see that.” He nods slowly. “Do you want to tell me, what this is about?”  
  
“I don’t think you’re going to take it very well Dean.”  
  
“Try me. We’re best friends remember? We can talk to each other about everything.”  
  
You give a sigh and take a swig of your beer. “I’ve been feeling low for a while, and depressed, because I. I’m in. I’m in love with you.” You finally spit it out.  
  
“Wait, y. Y. You’re in love with me?” he stutters. He leans back in his chair, trying to create a bigger space gap between the two of you.  
  
“And that’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”  
  
“(Y/N)…”  
  
“I was afraid of your reaction.” You put your head down and fold your arms across your chest. “I’m better at holding things in.”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “I. I can’t do this right now.” He pushes back against the chair and rushes out of the kitchen.  
  
You felt like something like this was going to happen. You polish off your beer again, and head to the fridge, to grab another. You jump as you hear a door slam, but go back to drinking your pain away.  
  
You head to the library, and start to do as much Griffin research as possible on your laptop.  
  
Minutes turn to what feels like hours, and the words on the screen start to jump and jumble, making it hard to read. Dean walks in, and searches for you.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you Dean. I just really didn’t know what to say, or how to say it to you.” You try and talk real fast. “If you – ”  
  
Dean holds his hand out to stop you. “Let me get this out, please.” You nod and close your mouth, letting him speak. “I am so sorry that you felt you couldn’t talk to me about anything. You’re my best friend, and I hope you feel the same way. You make it so much easier to go on hunts. You’ve been making being around Sam a lot easier.” You both laugh. “But I don’t know what to say to you.”  
  
“All I want is your honesty Dean. I’ve told you what’s bothering me, so I want you to be honest with me.”  
  
He takes a big breath of air and lets it out dramatically. “You have to give me time (Y/N). I’ve been in the dating game a long time, and this life. This is a messed up life, and having a relationship in this kind of a life, shouldn’t happen. I can’t screw up your life, even more than it is.”  
  
“But shouldn’t that be partially  _my_  choice? I get that this life is dangerous, and that that thing on your arm is dangerous, but I don’t need anyone telling me what I  _can_  and  _can’t_  do. Or who I  _can_  or  _can’t_  be with.”  
  
“I also don’t want to lose the friendship we have. I think we’d be worse off hating each other because we tried something. Do you?”  
  
You nod slowly and think about it. Half the time you weren’t even sure what you wanted. “No. Of course not. I just wanted to be honest about my feelings.”  
  
Dean smiles and stands, approaching you. “I appreciate your honesty (Y/N). Don’t ever feel ashamed of your feelings. You just gotta let me work through mine before surprising me again.”  
  
He wraps his arm around you, almost giving you a big brother kind of vibe. But as he plants a kiss on your forehead, you feel that something could happen.  
  
Not now, not in the next month. Maybe not a year from now, but something could happen.


End file.
